Darkened Passions
by Ash Night
Summary: Aubrey contemplates on his life in the middle of a storm before meeting up with the others in the Las Noches. An argument rises when a human vampire hunter "attempts" to kill Aubrey. Soon Risika and Aubrey are left alone by the others and an odd conversat
1. Brewing Storms

Untitled

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Darkened Passions

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By Ash Night

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A/N: Updated and revised due to the help of my nit pick aka Julia. Yes, I did run out in the middle of the thunderstorm and I got wet.

Disclaimer: All of the characters belong to Amelia Atwater-Rhodes. The inspiration goes to the storm and a fellow author here in this section. *grins* My penname also belongs to Amelia Atwater-Rhodes... but I have recieved permission. :P Now on with the story!

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Brewing Storms

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A low rumble of thunder echoed through the night air. Why was he out here? Out in the midst of a storm? Sheets of rain poured onto his body, soaking his dark clothing. The constant wind whirled around him as the heavy splatters of wetness fell onto his skin. He didn't shuddered when he felt the full raindrops splash a brief freezing sensation on his burning skin.

It was pitch black outside except for the gray looming of storm clouds sulking in the sky. The only light came from the lightening that occasionally streaked across the sky. The soft rushing of water from a nearby stream twisted through the forest. The sound of rustling leaves surrounded him, trapping him with the noise.

Although he was free in the wilderness, he felt the suffocation of vulnerability wherever he went. A careless mistake had nearly cost him his life and gave him a heavy, permanent scar to his pride. It was a mixture of confidence and pride that made him vulnerable to a certain vampire. The predicament he found himself in was a vicious cycle of torture. There seemed to be no way out; no way to escape.

It had been a long time since that fate-altering fight in the Las Noches, but the memory of it was as vivid as the reality of the storm he was caught in. A bittersweet taste hung thickly in his mouth from his last prey. She had resembled Risika in more ways than one, and her agony of defeat was almost like a realistic victory to him. Her blood had tasted differently than the others…. it was bittersweet. 

Aubrey abhorred her with a fiery, zealous passion, which he assumed either equaled or surpassed hers for him. The fact that he was now _weaker_ than her disgusted him. That was why he had jumped at the chance to kill the look-a-like Risika who had wandered so boldly in the dark streets of the dangerous city.

The thundering had stopped suddenly along with the streaks of lightening and deep thunder. The rain was also lighting up. Now, it was reduced only to a constant shower of gentle sprinkles that generally appeared after the heart of a storm. 

He remembered what it was like to be more powerful than her – to be the dominant figure that gave her fear. He remembered his taunts and threats that would ring in her ears. The rage that gleamed in her eyes whenever he was around reminded him of his bitter cruelness, especially towards her. The streaks of harsh black through her blonde hair after he had killed _her beloved Tora showed him the love she could possibly posses for a fellow caged creature. _

He remembered when he was pinned to the floor of the Las Noches by the tiger that was Risika. The claws had dug into his arms and legs. The fear that had chilled his veins caused him to shudder slightly -- completely defenseless and at the mercy of a creature that completely despised him. What had he done wrong? The desperation for life had made him nearly beg for his own. The possibility of his life ending so soon had been too much for him….

_"I do not want it to end yet... I offer you my blood..."_

_ What flashed through her mind when his words echoed into her? Was it the shred of humanity that he had cautioned against? Or was it the statistical gain? Whatever it was, it indeed persuaded her to indeed take his blood. _

He winced when he relived the painful memory. Her tiger form had changed into her human one. She was physically weaker then. Her lips had been pressed against his neck when he felt the sharp sting of her long fangs. She had been in the trance that all vampires experience when feeding. 

Why did he not throw her off then? What kept him to be _her prey?_

When she had finished, Risika had picked up his knife. She had pondered the possibilities for a brief moment. The decision had been hers, and he could not do a thing about it. Would she be the monster he had so encouraged her to be? Or would she still have the conscience he so discouraged against? She had chosen to let him live. The bitter irony could almost seem humorous in a different perspective, but he did not share that point of view. 

Rage filled, Aubrey traced the faint scar he had received from her. His blood had been his payment for the deaths of Alexander and Tora. He later discovered from another vampire that Alexander was a Triste and was therefore still alive. His _blood had been used to pay for the death of the dumb beast. __Damn her. It was a high price, and he had been the one to offer it for a life, which would never be the same. _

The rain had almost stopped. The thick humidity flooded the air, drowning the essence of life. The calmness after the storm left an eerie sensation on the bystanders. The tranquility seemed so unexpected especially after the raging storm that it seemed to swallow the world in a mist of disorientation._ It was too quiet... too still…._

He looked up to the sky. The heavy gray clouds began to fade away, leaving behind pinpricks of starlight on a background of unearthly black. The moon peered out from the gray masses, shining its silver glowing light. He had come here because he felt the deadening attachment of Jessica, his fledgling. She held tightly onto him and had almost made herself a nuisance. The everlasting love had been reduced to fondness, over time. 

Jessica failed to acknowledge the lack of passion in his forced embraces and kisses. She was too naive and young to understand that the excitement of a new "toy" would wear off as time passes. She may have even written about vampires who have lost interest in their fledglings, but she wanted something that wasn't there so desperately that her mind managed to fool any doubts. 

Aubrey stood there, contemplating about his situation with her. He wanted someone new, passionate, and fiery -- someone who could understand…. 

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A/N: There are quite a few metaphores and anologies here. Probably not that many similies since I'm not too fond of them. (The sky looked like lumpy porriage.) Anyway, if you've read carefully, you would probably already know *who* Aubrey is thinking about. *grins* This is likely to turn out to be a rather dark... and *possibly* a rather distasteful fic... which will probably remind you of bittersweet chocolate. Mind you, my left hand shift key does not work... so I have taught myself how to be dependent on the righthand shift key... *stupid old laptop* 

Anyway, review... It inspires me and it encourages me to write. You have no idea how happy it makes an author receive a review. A single review brightens up my day and constructive critisism is always welcome... Now if I can only spell with out spell check... Flames will be ignored and discarded according to the Sun Screen song. Now stop reading and review! :)


	2. Shattered Glass

Untitled

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Darkened Passions

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By Ash Night

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A/N: Oh dear... I got a tad carried away with this one. *grins* This incorporates "He who Carries the Whip" by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes... Which was up for a brief while... The names are kept the same to "He who Carries the Whip." They are not changed to fit the original story... such as Panthar to Jaguar. Anyway, the beginning of this chapter is a "prep" for a conversation that Aubrey and Risika have near the end. Quite a few characters make their appearance in the beginning... 

Yes, I just had this revised by the nit pick aka Julie.

Disclaimer: All of the characters you know and love/hate.... belong to Amelia. Not one of them belongs to poor Ash Night. The penname doesn't quite belong to me either... *smiles sheepishly* Anyway, I got inspired by yet another story on ff.n. Now stop reading this and read the actual chapter!

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Shattered Glass

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In a fury of flesh and leather, a body slammed into one of the mirrors, tensing in pain and causing the already shattered pieces to fall like a storm of diamonds. The jagged sections reflected a splendor of light, shimmering for a brief moment before the sharp edges sliced her skin. She had tried to protect herself by shielding her arms in front of her face, and now crimson was dripping freely from the cuts. 

"Who are you, and what do you want?" demanded Jessica, eying the many gold bands adorning her fingers. She quickly scanned her memory for an identity to match the description. 

Ignoring the blood, she gingerly stood up, refusing to be conquered so easily. Her burgundy hair was littered with small flecks of glass. Her electric blue eyes held Jessica's venomous gaze. She wore black leather pants and a matching halter-top that seemed more suitable for clubbing than a fight of such a degree. She gripped a silver knife in one hand, which she had managed to pull out from her left boot after her fall. 

Jessica threw a flash of power at the young woman. She winced in pain, but stood her ground, preparing herself for the next blow. "What do you want? You're obviously a human who has taken one step to far in the wrong direction," Jessica snapped. A look of annoyance crossed Jessica's face as she examined the person in front of her. Jessica finally concluded that she was either a vampire hunter or a desperate mercenary due to her recklessness, which she had exhibited a few moments before. 

"What's wrong with being human? It's better than being a blood lusting monster any day," she retaliated, still gripping the knife tightly. A rage rose in her impossibly deep blue eyes. "I came to this vampire infested rut to kill – him." Her attention quickly turned to Aubrey who had recently appeared in the room. His clothes were soaked and aggravation plastered his face. A frigid air of power clung to him making her suppress a shudder. 

"This is who wants to kill me?" he asked Jessica, staring at the proud woman who stood in front of them. A tone of amusement tainted his voice. 

"Apparently," agreed Jessica, scowling.

"I am Lora Psarris, leader of the Scarlett in the Ajar Guild," she stated, hoping it would trigger a response that resembled fear.

"Oh, a_ human _vampire hunter -- how amusing…" commented Fala, who had been observing the one sided fight. Amazed by her foolishness, she sat lazily in a stool and rested her eyes on Lora, who felt the chills of fear rising in her. "How much are they paying you? Because no amount of money is equal to the danger you're putting yourself in."

Lora growled in distaste at her comment. 

"What have you done now Aubrey? Did you murder the relative of someone capable of revenge?" The voice rang clearly through the room, taunting him with his past. 

He recognized to whom the voice belonged to the moment the first word was spoken. "Stay out of it, Risika. This is _my_ fight," he warned, coldly, though knowing he couldn't prevent her from "helping" if she wanted to.

"As if anyone would take time to help you – well maybe Jessica here, but that's because she's been blinded," insulted Risika, carefully watching his reaction and smiling slightly from enjoyment. She had referred to the well-known love affair between the vampire and the author. She shook her head sharply, flaunting her hair. The streaks of black were still there, nestled in the golden strands. 

During the conversation, Lora took the chance. She pounced onto Aubrey, knocking him to the floor in surprise. In response to the sudden outburst, he grabbed the wrist that held the knife, and twisted in such a way that their positions were switched. Slamming her hand to the wooden floor, her grip loosened on the knife, and the piece of metal fell with a loud clang. Pinning her down with his weight, another hand found its way to her throat, causing a strangled cry. His grip was tight, and it threatened death. There was no need for him to use his mind again to prove that this was a futile assignment for her. She tried to struggle against him, but she failed. She was defeated. 

"Who sent you?" he asked, looking at her darkly. 

His hand was still on her throat, but it was slightly looser to allow speech. "I work for the Darkness," she spat angrily, having no choice, but to answer. 

He glared at her. "Tell Panthar that Silver's line is still in power. If he plans to rebuild Darkness, warn him that things will be dealt with accordingly," he cautioned, speaking very clearly and evenly. 

"Tell him yourself. I'm a mercenary, not a messenger. Besides, the Darkness has _already_ been built," she hissed in a voice barely above a whisper.

He said nothing in reply.

She laughed, assuming that his silence had an underlying layer of fear. She was wrong. Aubrey released a wave of energy through her. Since she was a human and had no mental protection against him, she felt the raw essence of the power. A frigid numbness screamed through her veins, yet it felt like the breath of flames at the same time. Lora shuddered from the coldness, and a sheen of sweat settled on her skin from the heat. 

He released his grasps from her throat and wrist. Untangling himself from the almost pitiful mess, he stood over her, piercing her with a look of disgust. Pathetically preparing herself, she sat up and hastily picked her knife up, clutching it tightly.

"What is it?" asked Jessica, noticing the preoccupied look on his face. 

"The Darkness is back," he informed them very simply, glancing at Jessica, before allowing his gaze to settle on Risika. 

His comment caused mixed reactions amongst the vampires. Jessica frowned, crossing her arms and pondering quietly to herself. Fala said nothing, but there was a tinge of concern in her dark eyes. Jager, who had been silent during the previous conversations, frowned distastefully.

Risika argued in disbelief at their responses "Panthar is weak. He wouldn't be able to overthrow the Silver line's power." Her tone was tainted thickly with an air of confidence and pride, which could be mistaken as ignorance on the subject. 

"He wouldn't be able to overthrow us _alone_. The last thing I've heard was that Panthar has already gathered a number of supporters. They are not only vampires. There are human slaves broken in, and possibly morphs. The human slave trade has been unfolding beneath our gazes, but we haven't been able to catch any of the traders or trainers," he explained slowly, keeping his voice in his usual steady and calm tone. 

"What are we supposed to do then?" spoke Jessica, softly. She stared at the human beside her, absentmindedly taking notes on her beaten demeanor, possibly for her next book. Her passion for writing did not die out over the years; instead, they became more extreme due to the fact she had become more like her characters. She looked around at those she had written about, remembering the stories she told of them. She wondered about their future and how they could possibly affect her future tales.

"You can't do anything. The inevitable will arrive," Lora predicted. She had a cautious grin upon her face, taking pleasure in their distress. 

"Don't you ever keep quiet, human? Or do you wish that the inevitable come to you?" snapped Fala, menacingly. Her annoyance for Lora showed through in her short temper.

Smirking, Risika teased nastily, "Maybe Aubrey would like to do the honors." 

He ignored her comment. In response, she delved into his mind with her own, trying to read his thoughts. 

_Maybe I would_, he thought, knowing that he was completely exposed to her and that she would likely look into his mind for his opinion.

_A human vampire hunter and **her** prey… How interesting, yet so bittersweet_,she thought back. 

He turned to look at her, throwing her a glare. _My blood was used to pay for _the_ death of a tiger_, he reminded her.

She raised an innocent eyebrow. Her lack of knowledge on the subject made his anger rose slightly, but his self control and pride wouldn't allow him to show it. 

He had no offenses against Risika, except for his words._ Alexander is still alive, and you know it. _

In her mind, she knew that he was indeed alive. After the fight, Alexander had finally confronted her. Instead of receiving the brotherly love she wished for, they separated and went off their own paths that barely crossed. They were just too different. Risika had no arguments with the arrangement, but the emphasis on his life struck a chord within her. 

_Damn you. _He still knew how to ruin her happiness.

_Already done. _Now it was his turn to smirk. 

"Excuse me?" Jessica interrupted the silent conversation. She didn't know what was being "said," but she assumed it was going on because of the intensely deep stare they exchanged. The gazes held for a moment after the disruption, before they fell. 

"What?" asked Aubrey, slightly irritated. 

"Nothing," she responded haughtily. Jessica felt a tinge of jealousy because of the silent conversation, but she ignored it and quickly assured herself that Aubrey would not leave her especially for Risika. 

Meanwhile, Lora had stood up and proceeded to sneak behind the bar for an ambush, but before managing to duck behind the counter, Jager spoke "Where are _you_ going?" He looked at her intently, causing the others to turn their attention to Lora as well. 

"What are we going to do with a trouble maker such as yourself?" commented Jessica. There was a light tone in her voice.

Fala smiled wickedly. A suppressed urge for violence glinted in her eyes. "Would ash be alright?" she asked, imagining Lora as a small pile of black ash. 

"As much as I'd like to see her burn… I think she can still provide us with a bit of information," replied Jessica, sensing the foolishness of killing someone who knew so much information. 

The expression that Lora gave to them was a mixture between confusion and fear. Her skin was very pale and her breathing light and raspy. She felt the depletion of privacy. Someone was scanning her mind, reading it like a book comprised of her memories, feelings, and thoughts. The pressure of a powerful mind searching through hers gave way to the realization of her weakness. She didn't want to admit it, but the truth of the matter was undeniable. 

The pressure left almost as soon as it came. "Already done. She's all yours Fala," said Aubrey impassively. 

Lora took a step back, in disbelief. "You're monsters… all of you…" she stuttered, unable to speak, despite her training, silently hoping that they would be delayed or would take pity on her.

"Face it. You lost the moment you stepped in with your attitude," replied Fala, advancing on the frightened young woman. In response, Lora froze for a brief moment before running through Las Noches towards the exit. Fala frowned before disappearing as well, though in a different way. 

Aubrey and Jessica exchanged amused glances. "I still need to hunt," said Jessica. She only stayed a moment longer to see him acknowledge her words with only a simple nod. 

Looking around, Aubrey noticed that Jager had already left, possibly to accompany Fala in the burning process. Only Risika was still here. Disliking the end of conversation in his home more than conversing with her, he stayed. 

She had observed him closely. "Sick of her already?" she asked with contempt, eying his movements and expecting a verbal attack.

Instead, he nodded candidly, casually taking a glass bottle from behind the bar before taking a seat next to her. 

Cringing, she said, "Never knew your attention span was _that_ short." Disliking the short amount of time he managed to loose interest in her, it sickened her to know that someone could be absolutely devoted to anyone who did not have the same feelings.

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you would know," Aubrey assumed, staring at her with such intensity that it sent a chill shiver up her spine. 

"Know what?" she pressed, raising her voice. Her curiosity overcame her hatred for him at the moment. 

He smirked. "Love hardly exists in _our_ world," he answered, watching her carefully. "Love is used too interchangeably with _lust_."

Risika said nothing, not knowing how to reply to such a bold statement.

He continued, "Love is supposed to last forever and overcome all boundaries. Lust is a raw physical attraction that is drowned by time."

"How do _you_ know so much about love?" she asked, not knowing what to expect for an answer.

"_I_ don't," he said blankly. "But, I _know_ how humans act when they're in love. They give their life and happiness to the care of another person who may or may not feel the same. When they're rejected or denied of that love they crave, they're hearts and worlds are shattered. The heart broken contemplates suicide and possibly murder…"

She could relate with him on the subject because of the death of Tora and the assumed death of Alexander. But, how did he accumulate such knowledge by casual observation? "You observe people in love?" she questioned. There was always something new to discover about him. She had contemplated on reading his mind completely, but she decided against it because of a mild conflict of morals and lack of concern.

Aubrey frowned at the accusation. "No, I'm usually the one that causes the heart break that eventually leads to misery," he said crossly. 

She raised an eyebrow at his poor choice of the language.

"_I_ don't cause myself to be loved by humans… at least not _intentionally_… _I_ cause the misery, mostly by misinterpretation of information, murder, or suggestions on suicide."

A look of revolt settled on her face at his words. His morals were even fewer than she had previously thought. "Don't you have any morals?" Risika wondered, shocked by the pain he had caused to others. She did not intentionally cause pain on her prey, although they usually died in the end.

He narrowed his eyes. "Yes, I do, but juggling hearts, metaphorically or literally, does not go against any one of them," he answered hastily. The subject was already touched upon once before and he did not want to be lectured on the morals he _should_ have. 

A heavy silence fell between them. Risika wondered about the morals he did have, but she did not dare to read his mind in fear of being disgusted even further. The conversation darkened her view of Aubrey. Caught up in the subject of love, she asked, "Have you ever been loved?" before she could stop herself.

Her simple question struck a chord in him, causing it to bring an uneasy sensation to the topic. He remembered unwillingly what he had tried so hard to bury. His eyes locked with hers. His black eyes appeared even darker if possible. They were unfocused as though he was preoccupied with a distant memory. Finally, he said, hardly above a whisper, "I too _had_ a family." 

_A weakness_, Risika thought, gazing at him. He wasn't the proud, arrogant vampire she knew. He wasn't strong or brave anymore. He seemed defeated and lonely. 

_Nobody's perfect_, he defended silently.

His eyes fell onto her. A glare of recognition settled in them as he watched her. Risika felt uncomfortable beneath his gaze. The way he looked at her was haunting. A shiver wracked her body as she was mesmerized by the emotion in his eyes. It never occurred to her that Aubrey had a family as well. The very idea of it was almost disturbing. She had assumed that he always had the personality he currently had. For a brief moment, she felt the way he did, even though she didn't understand _what_ she was feeling. A look of compassion crossed her features, not for Aubrey, the sadistic fighter; but for the Aubrey that had never been allowed to show before.

He narrowed his eyes. _I don't **want** sympathy._ He broke the stare, glancing at the bottle of vividly red liquid he held in a hand. Swirling the liquid around inside, he ignored her. Why did he let his guard down? A quick glance at her again was all it took to trigger a few flashes of images. It was painful to remember – to remember the past he tried so hard to forget. He managed to smother the memories by concentrating on the present. Now… the present was the memories.

He popped the bottle open and took a long sip. It was bittersweet…

The sound of shattering glass filled the room. Aubrey had thrown the bottle against one of the cracked mirrors before disappearing into the night. The red liquid that was inside was now splattered on the walls and floor. The pieces of glass were scattered on the floor. The glass bottle had broken into only two pieces, and was now lying in a small pool of crimson. 

The liquid was blood.

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A/N: Well... Hopefully Aubrey wasn't too out of character... Just write me a note on whether he was or wasn't. Also note that I could've made him break down completely and sobbing into Risika's shoulder... But, I decided not to. He had too much pride for that. Now I have a mild idea on the plot. Anyway, the next chapter won't be out until I throw myself into research on Ancient Assyria. If you want to read a ramble on Aubrey's origin, visit the forum. :)

Please tell me whether the dialogue in the beginning was alright and whether the conversation between Aubrey and Risika was okay as well... Anyway just tell me how I did... I'm a tad insecure about this chapter... and constructive critisism or compliments are always welcome. Just review in the little box below. You have absolutely no idea how happy it makes an author feel when you receive a review. *grins*


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